


Wild Heart

by Krasimer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And is willing to tear his own heart apart for him, Because he did not know what he was doing., Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Erica and Boyd don't die, Erica and Stiles are great friends, F/M, I spit in the face of what he wants, Jeff Davis Is Not A Gift, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Loves Derek, Timeline changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 11:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: "He does not tell her, but he is willing to tear his heart into pieces to make sure the world stays light for the one he loves."If he could, he would give them peace and safety and happiness.But he is only one person, one little human.So he'll learn what he can and make it work anyway.





	Wild Heart

****

“When you fall in love,” she said to him, her voice quiet, raspy and warm the way it always was, “Your heart isn’t really your own anymore.”

“But what if I want it to be?” he asked her, refusing to look up to see what the expression on her face was.

“Then I’m pretty sure you’re not actually in love.”

He does not tell her, but he is willing to tear his heart into pieces to make sure the world stays light for the one he loves.

 

X

 

His dreams are filled with terrors.

He has died and he has lived and been brought back and possessed and his life has nearly destroyed him. He feels like he is forged in fire and ice and there is something strange and powerful living behind his eyes, these days.

He is his father’s son.

He is his mother’s child.

He never lived through the fire that tore a hole in their town, but when he dreams he chokes on the ash of it. When he dreams, his mother is dying all over again. His friends are suffering – an abusive nightmare of a father, the loss of control that came with her brain being against her, his family being unable to do anything about their situation, his father leaving and cheating on his mother. He dreams of her screams and of her fury.

And he dreams of what it must have been like, as a wolf, to be standing at the edge of the burning and collapsed ruin of your childhood and feeling your family die.

If he could, he would take the memory of loss and sadness and loneliness into himself and never let his wolf feel those things ever again.

He would swallow the nightmares and the shadows until there is nothing but light.

 

X

 

“Your heart pounds when you see him,” she whispers to him.

“Can that be a secret?” he asks her – usually, she would ignore that and tell someone anyway, but this is a heartsick question that she can tell he almost doesn’t want to voice. She is not going to be the one to pluck at his heart and rip it open for all the world to see.

So she nods.

And she reaches out to take his hand in hers, pressing it to her cheek in an attempt to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Batman. It’s between us.”

She pretends not to see the building tears in his eyes when he nods.

She won’t remind him that everyone else can hear it too.

 

X

 

If he could, he would rip out the nightmares from their lives and plant flowers, instead.

There are so many types of love, so many different ways of being in love, that it gets dizzying. If asked, he would do everything he could for those he loves, even if it meant ripping out his own heart.

He would settle the wolves in a world that didn’t carve knives out of their words, line their mouths and teeth with silver when they go after them. He would give his wolf and the little family he built a home to be safe in – a world where the moon shone like a beacon and the sky was filled with stars and they could always be themselves and be safe.

He would give _her_ a world of people who could challenge her intellect, let her climb her way to the top and be proud of her victory. He loved her in every way he could, once. He doesn’t love her in every way, anymore.

He would still give her a world of intelligence and peers to keep up with her and keep her happy.

He would give her fury an outlet, let her be a warrior of old. He didn’t ever love her, not in the same way as the boy who has always been almost-a-brother, not in many of the other ways either. He respected her, more than anything.

His friend, his brother, a piece of his tiny family, would belong in a world of soft smiles and happiness. He would do everything he could to give it to him.

She would get a world where she was always in control of her body, of herself. Her world would mesh with _his_ world, giving them happier lives. Their families would be taken care of, fitted together like pieces of a puzzle. They always belonged together.

He builds worlds for them in his head.

He builds them in silence and he wishes he could gift them to the people they’re meant for.

His wolf would belong in a world of soft fabrics and large families, of full moons and the brilliance of stars in the night sky.

There is an _ache_ in his chest when he thinks of how it would be to see his wolf happy.

 

X

 

When he sits at her bedside, she does not wake.

They had found her, dirtied and hurt and bloodied, a couple of miles outside of town.

He is there when she wakes.

 

X

 

If he cannot give his wolf and the others the worlds he designed for them, he will make sure they can have this one.

When the threat comes, he learns how to defeat it.

And the one after that.

And the next.

He pours himself into his spells and the books he can beg off of the man who used to be what he will be. His blood is not necessary but he will give his time and his life if he has to.

The wolves live.

_The wolves live._

They nearly lose a couple of them, nearly lose _her_ , nearly lose their parents and what little remains of their happiness, but everyone lives. He pours even more of himself into the spells maintaining the safety of their little town.

He refuses to lose even a single one of them.

 

X

 

When the time comes, she wakes and he is there and he finds her _him_ for her.

They are reunited and the look she gives him over _his_ shoulder is significant – he knows what she wants him to do.

One day, he promises silently.

It’s good enough for her.

 

X

“STILES!”

 

X

 

Derek’s hands are warm, too warm, scorching, when they touch his face.

He can feel the thread pulse and beat of the wrecked heart in his chest, so split between those he loves that it is falling apart, and he nearly sobs at the sensation. Derek is crouching over him, cradling his face between his hands. “Did we win?”

“The Alpha pack is gone,” Derek says quietly, his eyes wide and afraid. “Stiles, what the _hell_ did you do?”

With a laugh, he rolls his head to one side and nuzzles into his wolf’s palm. “Kind of what I had to.”

His hand manages to land on his wolf’s chest.

Underneath his own palm, he can feel the strained pulse of someone who loves his family so much it is ripping him apart. “We won?”

“Yeah,” Derek pauses for a second before he seems to melt, pulling Stiles into a tight hug, still incredibly gentle with him. “We won.”

The air between them is fragile but Stiles thinks they’re both feeling the same wave of relief and calm.

 

X

 

He is the pack emissary.

Not The Pack Emissary. He belongs to both of them – is the connection between the two. Derek comes to him and smiles and shares half of his heart and Scott comes to him with jokes and bad food and asking for advice.

It is a complicated life, but this is what it means to be the Witch of the Beacon.

And he is entirely in love with his wolf, his friends, his family, his town.

His heart is no longer his, but that is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat experimental -- tell me what you think?


End file.
